Basset agreed willingly. He hated the whole thing and his part in it. It forced him to champion, or to seem to champion, Mary against her betrothed; and so set him in that kind of opposition to his rival which he loathed. It was only after some hesitation that he had determined to see Audley, and now that he had seen him, the sooner he was clear of the matter the happier he would be. So, “Certainly,” he repeated, thinking that the other was taking it very well. “And now, as I have had a hard day, I will say good-night.”
“Good-night, and believe me,” my lord added warmly, “we recognize the friendliness of your action.”
Outside, in the darkness of the road, Basset drew a breath of relief. He had had a hard day and he was utterly weary. But he had come now, thank God, to an end of many things; of the canvass he had detested and the contest in which he had been beaten; of his relations with Mary, whom he had lost; of this imbroglio, which he hated; of Riddsley and the Gatehouse and the old life there! He could go to his inn and sleep the clock round. In his bed he would be safe, he would be free from troubles. It seemed to him a refuge. Till the morrow he need think of nothing, and when he came forth again it would be to a new life. Henceforth Blore, his old house and his starved acres must bound his ambitions. With the money which John Audley had left him he would dig and drain and fence and build, and be by turns Talpa the mole and Castor the beaver. In time, as he began to see the fruit of his toil, he would win to some degree of content, and be glad, looking back, that he had made this trial of his powers, this essay towards a wider usefulness. So, in the end, he would come through to peace.
But at this point the current of his thoughts eddied against Toft, and he cursed the man anew. Why had he played these tricks? Why had he kept back this paper? Why had he produced it now and cast on others this unpleasant task?
CHAPTER XXXVIII
TOFT’S LITTLE SURPRISE
Toft had gone into Riddsley on the polling-day, but had returned before the result was known. “What the man was thinking of,” his wife declared in wrath, “beats me! To be there hours and hours and come out no wiser than he went, and we waiting to hear—a babe would ha’ had more sense! The young master that we’ve known all our lives, to be in or out, and we to know nothing till morning! It passes patience!”
Mary had her own feelings, but she concealed them. “He must know how it was going when he left?” she said.
“He doesn’t know an identical thing!” Mrs. Toft replied. “And all he’d say was, ‘There, there, what does it matter?’ For all the world as if he spoke to a child! ‘What else matters, man?’ says I. ‘What did you go for?’ But there, Miss, he’s beyond me these days! I believe he’s going like the poor master, that had a bee in his bonnet, God forgive me for saying it! But what’d one not say, and we to wait till morning not knowing whether those plaguy Repealers are in or out!”
“But Mr. Basset is for Repeal,” Mary said.
“What matter what he’s for, if he’s in?” Mrs. Toft replied loftily. “But to wait till morning to know—the man’s no better than a numps!”